The Archduke Saga: Knights of Ren
by captainalex175
Summary: On the planet Salazar in the Outer Rim lies the peaceful, isolated country of Ren. This story follows OC's, but borrows ideas from Star Wars. It provides a (unofficial) pseudo-origin story for the Knights of Ren.


**This is a Fic loosely based on the Star Wars Franchise, specifically the Knights of Ren. I do not own or claim to own any of the places, ideas or characters. This is an AU almost entirely made up of OC's. There are no specific Star Wars characters in this Fic(outside of references). This is obviously not official in any way. Thank you for reading.**

The Archdukes Saga

Downfall

The Country of Ren was a mighty empire ruled by the Archduke on the planet Salazar. The Archduke was a peculiar leader; having both qualities of benevolence and of violence. He took on both titles of "_The Executioner" _and "_The Kind"_. He was known for beheading all of his enemies himself. But through his ruthlessness, he built his country into a near utopia. Towns grew, crops flourished and the people were happy. Unfortunately, this didn't last.

The Archduke had fallen to his unexpected demise. Upon the breaking of this news came a shift of political power in the Empire of Ren. The long secluded dark cult called "_The Knights of Ren"_ seized control over all of Ren. It was known that this cult had been connected to the Dark Side of the Force, however, it was not known what they had been planning.

While he was still alive the Archduke had investigated the Knights many times and worked hard to build a relationship with the powerful group that would keep the country peaceful, this was also known. The knights were led by a man known only as "_The Master". _

After the knights assumed control, the country became guarded and shrouded in a dark fog. Even though not much had changed since the death of the Archduke it was as if the whole empire was in mourning. Somewhere in the first year of the Knights control the mourning shifted to a more hopeless grim feeling. There was disease in several crop fields, flooding in the streets, and the Master had raised taxes. The knights filled this time redesigning the palace and turning it into a black temple. They also mobilized the army of ren, moving it to the border between Ren and Tomoga. The Knights continued their rule of Ren for 2 years unopposed.

The people became more depressed after each year. In the 15th month of the 2nd year (the years on Ren were 400 days and split into 16 months) the common folk staged a rebellion. They formed a militia several hundred people strong and stormed the Temple of Ren. Not one peasant made it through the first wall. The rebellion was utterly annihilated in one swift blow. They launched their attack thinking that it would be a surprise.

Unfortunately, the dark side of the force revealed their plan to the Knights. The knights were ready and executed all but one group of the militia. The one group which they kept alive was tasked with telling the others that had not been part of the attack. They spread the tale of the vicious murder of hundreds of common folk by the shrouded figures. This tale grew like a rumorous weed and spread across Ren casting fear into the hearts of its people. They thought there was no possibility of hope against such powerful overlords. Three more years passed and the days of the archduke were but distant memories.

Balance

The Force is an interesting thing; it flows through everything, affecting and reacting, but never truly controlling something or allowing itself to be controlled. Some say that the force can be measured in midichlorians, some say that it exists in all creatures, and some believe that the force itself is alive. Whatever the case, the power and effect that it has over the universe can seem limitless under the right conditions.

The Archduke of Ren did die that day, all those many years ago, but his secret did not. In public, the Archduke had two titles, but his third became his shame, a secret symbol of his failure that he carried with him in plain sight. As a child, the Archduke had been taken from Ren to become part of an order that didn't exist on Salazar. The Archduke was to become a Jedi Knight. He was an especially skilled child and quickly advanced from Youngling to Padawan and trained under a knight during the wars of the old republic. He had passed three of his trials to become a Jedi Knight but failed in his trial of spirit.

Defeated, he snuck away from the Jedi temple and ran home to Salazar. He found Ren quickly descending into ruins. His noble parents had been killed and his uncle was making a mockery of the throne. He was young, but not broken. He used this as an opportunity to redeem himself. He gave himself to a home that he had never known and learned to love a land that soon loved him back. He was a fresh face, but had a claim to the throne from his parents; the people loved him. His lightsaber was still new then, it was the only thing he took with him from the temple. With the skills that he had learned he dispensed fair justice and created peace on his homeworld.

One year after his arrival, he had reached a critical point in the early days of his reign. His guard had finally caught a criminal mastermind who was behind the assassination of his parents, as well as a slew of other attacks. The young archduke had to decide how to deal with her. The people clearly were biased, but violence was against everything he had built. And he had built it, the reason he was so popular was because of how hands-on he had been in every issue he faced. He decided he would do it, he would kill her on the first day of his second year as Archduke, but he would do it himself.

Igniting his saber that morning was a difficult task, what he was about to do was not the Jedi way, but he was a Jedi no longer. In the grand hall of Ren's capital city of Kothar, The Archduke brought the criminal. The hall was packed with all classes and races from his country, including a few hooded figures from a religion that had historically kept to themselves. He said a few words about her crimes, and then explained to his people what was to happen. He drew his weapon and held it aloft. He felt a surge of energy rush through him; from the hilt of his blade and coursing inside of him. To his surprise, and causing a moment of internal panic, the blade of his lightsaber had changed from the pale green of his youth to an orange-hued red. The people thought nothing of this, or if they did, they never talked about it, the ways of the Sith and Jedi hadn't reached this part of the galaxy and wouldn't for a long time. The color of their new leader's weapon meant nothing to them. The execution went swiftly, a lightsaber can cut through nearly any material.

Afterward, the Archduke retreated to his chambers and meditated on this occurrence for many hours. He knew that the Sith corrupted their Kyber crystals to turn their blades red, but he did not think that was what happened that day. He vowed to only use his tool of the force for justice. He kept the blade on his person during his rule. He didn't want it to fall into the wrong hands, and it served as a reminder of his past.

Limbo

A great Jedi by the name of Kenobi would one day say that a lightsaber, "is your life", but for the Archduke that had a more literal meaning. He died at the age of 54 years. Despite having not practiced the Jedi arts for anything more than meditation and the occasional execution in the last 30 years, the Archdukes soul remained on the mortal plane, becoming one with the force.

Frankly, this confused him. He had fallen ill a few months prior, and outside of his personal physician, he had told no one. He had only one living family member, who happened to be beloved by the people of Ren.

Winry Beret was his cousin and now his heir. His uncle died without ever seeing her born and her mother only had time to hide her before she too was killed. But, it had been nearly 30 years since Nero Beret was killed and Winry had grown into quite the respected young woman.

He expected to die in peace, to drift off in the night. The experience was jarring, yet ethereal. It was as if someone had awakened him by pouring a bottle of perfume on him. The sight he was met with when he finally adjusted though was worse.

Waiting in an empty room for him was someone he hadn't seen for many years, his old master. The Archduke fell to his knees; the shame rushing back to him. He felt an embrace. It was a surprise to be sure, but a welcome one. He choked back a sob before asking his old friend, "Why" He spent a while with his master. Talking about the multitude of choices that had led him to this moment. The old Jedi told him of a third order, one that wasn't Sith or Jedi. The grays' often began as Jedi or Sith initiates, but strayed from the path and relied on the Force to make their way in life.

Unbeknownst to the Archduke, he had fallen into this order and used the force in his life as royalty much more than he had ever realized. Now, however, the Archduke was faced with another choice that would change his life, or in this case, his death. This choice, however, was an easy one to make. The world that he had redeemed himself through his home, was falling fast into ruin. He held out his hand as his master taught him, one last lesson, and instead of pulling his saber to him, he pulled himself to his saber. And with that, he woke up.

Return

Though at first glance it seemed he awoke to his original idea of the afterlife, he knew that he was once again alive. The room was dark. He felt as if all of his senses were heightened; as if it was his first time truly using them. He could tell by the sent that he was underground, but what was he under?

The Archduke took a deep breath and cleared his mind. This place was familiar, yet very different. He felt something cold and metallic in his palm and realized that he was clutching his lightsaber. He ignited it and saw that he was in an old storage chamber underneath the palace. Like the palace up above, it appeared that this storage room had also been converted. Weird relics were set on pedestals on either side of the room, leading up to a now-empty pedestal that he was standing next to. He clipped this saber back into its familiar place on his belt.

The Archduke knew his castle well after spending so many years in it; he made his way quietly to the central elevators. The hall was more illuminated, but there was no one around. He paused for a moment and realized that while he knew his goal, he did not know his target. The energy of the whole palace had become negative, and there was no discernible source. Relying on logic and instinct, he reasoned that he should start in his old chambers in the high tower. Whoever he met there he would not immediately attack, he decided. These Knights of Ren could always be reasoned with in the past, and he wasn't going to kill anyone unless absolutely necessary.

Suddenly, the elevator stopped. And it opened to a room full of warriors and priests, all dressed in black. It was the grand hall, but instead of the podium of address sitting on the dais, a Throne of Obsidian took its place. Sitting on the Throne was a younger man, strong and stern-looking. Instead of the heavy robes of the priests or the layered garb of the warriors, the young man wore simple, tight-fitting clothing. The room was silent and motionless; frozen in time for a moment.

The Archduke spoke up, "So you're the Master I've heard so much about?" As he strode forward towards the dais, he realized that a slight amber glow had starting emanating from him. "You know in all my sixty years dealing with you Knights, there never was a Master," he declared, looking around at the small army still staring at him. "But if there's one thing I know about Knights, it's that Knights, all Knights, serve a King."

With that, the Archduke drew his blade. The Young Master stood. "Oh no, not a King, the Royalty of Ren ended with you," he spat. "Though I almost didn't recognize you, it seems death has made you look younger, but I guess once you've killed someone, and their parents, you don't forget them, no matter what they come back as, Archduke." Realizations flashed through the Archduke's mind, and the room began to empty, leaving him and the master alone.

Duel

The young master drew an odd spherical object from their belt. As they did, the facade fell and their figure shrank, revealing the criminal boss that the Archduke had executed all those years ago. Except she wasn't the criminal boss anymore, the malicious hatred and twisted comedy left her eyes. She was just a girl.

Sarin opened his mouth to speak, to apologize maybe, but he never got the words out. Lycia leaped toward him, pulling out two daggers from her sides. He shrunk away, narrowly avoiding the surprise attack. Lycia's daggers began to glow white around the edges, highlighting the deep black blade. When she swung at him again, he brought his saber up to block the blows, creating a crash of sparks and sound.

"We don't have to do this, Lycia," the Archduke began.

"No, you could've stayed dead," she shot back as she swung at him. "I've spent forty years trying to get here, I'm not gonna give it up for a ghost"

"You nearly toppled all of Ren in eight years, hid for two, survived an execution, and then spent 30 years before trying again?" Sarin questioned, hoping her explanation would distract her. It did not, as she provided no explanation. She simply surged forward. Lycia sent a flurry of swipes and strikes his way. The Archduke was more reserved and kept himself guarded. He moved back with a step and studied his opponent, silent to her taunts.

The two leaders rounded on each other. Both of them were looking for an opening and sending various jabs in the others' direction.

Lycia spoke, "My empire's reign is only beginning, I won't let you take it from me" This time it was Sarin's turn to be silent.

The two figures circled each other dueling late into the night. It was getting exhausting for Sarin. Despite returning in a younger form, it had still been many years since the Archduke had been in practice.

Taking a chance, he broke their dance. He lifted his saber with both hands over his head and swung it down for a mighty blow. But Lycia was quick and she twisted her body, swinging both blades up to catch his attack.

They held there for a moment before Lycia made a daring move. She held her block with only one dagger, removing the other to stab at Sarin's gut. The Archduke stumbled, his balance thrown off by the sudden movement. Lycia swept up with her other blade, aiming for his head. Sarin narrowly avoided, falling to his knees. Now it was Lycia's turn to bring her duel knives down upon him.

Again the two were locked for a moment. He had brought his blade up just in time. As they strained against each other, they locked eyes. Desperately the Archduke tried to clear his mind. In a final, random push, he called upon the force to throw his enemy across the hall. Lycia crashed into a pillar and laid in a crumpled heap.

Sarin withdrew the blade from his lightsaber. "Do not rise, Lycia, your ill-thought empire is over," he said with a slight ere of venom in his voice.

"No, No, NO! I will not fall at the hands of a fool," she shrieked as she stood and charged toward him; her fury obvious. Redrawing his blade as he swung it, the Archduke cut off her head, for the second time.

Liberation

A moment later, an alarm started blaring and Sarin noticed this a flashing coming from the disk that had changed Lycia's form. He walked over and stomped it beneath his foot. The flashing and noise stopped.

Suddenly light streamed in the room as the windows and doors on either side were opened. To the Archdukes left were the hooded Priests of Ren, and to his right were the robed Knights. Silence hung in the for a moment as the small army that had gathered processed what had happened while they were gone. Sarin walked back toward Lycia's body, stepping off the Dias.

When he did so, a knight and a priest rushed him. The priest grabbed wildly at his arm, trying to restrain him. The knight instead went for Sarin's saber. This did not phase Sarin. Calmly but with haste, he drew his lightsaber and cut the knight down and run the priest through. Upon seeing this, the various cultists of Ren stepped back. They looked lost without their master.

That was when the door to the great hall swung open. Standing at the main doors was a militia; a small army of people. They were the people of Ren, his people. Sarin recognized many of the faces, though they seemed more ragged and wethered now than before. When his eyes made their way to the front of the group Sarin stopped walking. It was Winry Beret.

He wanted to rush to her and hug his cousin, it had not been long since he had died, but the wound was still fresh, as tears filled her eyes. Standing next to Winry was her wife, Fiona, who also appeared to be a general of some sort for the militia.

Sarin addressed the Cultists, "You're master has fallen, for the second time in fact. I suspect that she had been using you for some time now, building an army while everyone thought she was dead. Did you even know that I had executed Lycia thirty years before? I'm sure some of you did, obviously one of her followers took the fall for her then. I assure you though, she's quite dead now." He paused for a moment and looked to the dark figures at his sides and then to the awed faces in front of him.

Before he could continue, Winry stepped forward, "That's right, and the kind Archduke Sarin has returned to us," this elicited cheers from her party.

She turned to him to speak but first, he finished his message to the cultists, "You were normal people once, like those who have now gathered at the door. Go back to you're homes, you are free now." The militia parted and slowly the army of cultists wandered out into the early morning light, some removing the dark clothing as the went.

"Cousin, it is so good to see you, and so young too. How did you come back?" Beret asked him.

" I'm sorry, cousin, but I am not back, not truly. I came because my people needed me, but with you here and Lycia gone, I can rest in peace."

"Oh, I guess I see, but how are you here at all?"

He took his lightsaber off his belt and held the hilt out to her, "This is part of it. The force is all around us young one, we are never truly gone from it. In my old chambers is a secret box, I suspect you will find more answers there."

Winry nodded and took the saber from him, clipping it to her belt. They hugged, and as they did, Sarin faded in her arms. Winry realized that her wife was standing at her side. She took Fiona's hand and turned back to here people.

"Thanks to my cousin, and our Archduke, the evil is gone from this place. But if we are not careful, it will return and infect Ren yet again. That is why from this day for we will have no one ruler, but instead an elected council of officials. The palace and its grounds will be given to the people to become governmental buildings and public spaces. Thank you"

Epilogue

Winry Beret was going through a few papers at her desk when she saw the time. Fiona would kill her if she was home late again, and she still had to fetch a box from the palace. They had been renovating the palace for two weeks now, but there still was much to be done. Though she had ceded the Duchess-ship, the people of Ren still looked to her during this trying time for any help she would give. She was thinking of running for some minor office when everything was back to normal, just to stay involved and connected with her people.

It took Winry a moment to realize what the box was after she picked it up; she had been getting lost in her own thoughts more than usual these days. She guessed that made sense though, as her cousin had died, her country had been taken over by an evil cult, she staged a rebellion, and witnessed her cousin come back to life to save them.

In the box were several books in languages that Winry did not recognize, as well as some folded robes, a lock of braided hair, the same black color as her own, and a picture frame. In the frame, was her Father, Count Nero, her aunt and uncle, the Duke and Duchess, and her cousin, the Archduke. They all looked so young. When she picked it up to get a closer look, a letter fell out. Beret read the letter and then rushed home, taking the box with her. She and Fiona need to have a talk about their son.


End file.
